Darkness
by Rapunzzle
Summary: Cameron and House are both at the hospital well after working hours when Cameron is attacked! Chapter 6 Up. COMPLETE
1. Default Chapter

**Disclaimer:** Not my characters, my idea, justa creative tale about my favorite show.  
**A/N: **Okay so I was bored in my American Lit class the other day so I wrote a new fanfic. I've read more than once that people enjoy those fictions which involve illness of characters or some such trauma. I suppose the appeal is because of the added drama in a potentially life-or-death situation of a character which therefore brings certain characters together. I have a few of these in my head, but this one is thus far my favorite. It doesn't involve illness, but there is indeed physical trauma/drama.  
**Spoiler:** None- a side-story post-"Control".

"Duetto-Sul Aria" played faintly in the background through the computers' speakers. From time to time, as the melody moved her, Cameron hummed or sung along in a soft, sweet voice. She stretched her toned arms above her head: it was late. Her hair, pulled back into a tousled ponytail, was out of the way of her concentration. Her shoulders were bare— her lab coat strewn across the nearby sofa, her suit jacket gracing the back of the chair in which she sat. The glow of the computer screen reflected in her wire-framed glasses.

She blinked, diverting her eyes from the bright illumination.

She yawned and glanced at her watch— 9:48pm. She hadn't noticed exactly _how_ late it was.

In the adjoining room, Dr. Gregory House clicked on a desk lamp and shuffled through a stack of papers which cluttered his desk.

Cameron stretched her long legs and sipped coffee from her half-empty cup, grimacing at its' coldness. She rose, cup in hand, and strode to the nearby sink to drain the remaining beverage. Turning, she gasped, jumping back.

"Oh" she sighed, "you startled me. What are you still doing here?"

House stood across the dimly-lit conference room.

"I could ask you the same thing" he replied, nonchalantly, leaning casually on his cane.

Cameron knit her brow and returned to the computer, putting an end to the music. Suspended now in silence, House moved towards her seated at the computer.

"Intern initiation, downstairs, in the boiler room. Very exciting— there's a ring and everything. I lost $50 bucks on a blonde from Boston, though. Disappointing" he finally answered.

Cameron looked at him, puzzling. How hard was it to answer such a simple question?

House stopped in front of the computer and looked down at her, arching a brow. She gazed up at him, surprised by his sudden nearness.

House tilted his head, inspecting her.

"Alright, alright, I give" he said.

"I was in a meeting, forgot a book I've been reading, 'The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People'" he smirked at her, "I'm finding it very helpful".

Cameron laughed ruefully and rose, collecting her suit jacket and sliding it on over her cool arms. She reached up and untied her piled hair, letting it cascade gracefully over her shoulders.

"So" House pressed, "what's your excuse?"

"Research" she muttered.

"Just... editing some paperwork, that sort of thing" she answered lamely, suddenly self-conscious about her somewhat 'obsessive' work ethic.

House frowned mockingly and leaned his face closer to hers.

"It's Friday night, Cameron" he intoned.

"Shouldn't you be out partying or something?"

She laughed, briefly but genuinely.

"I... don't do much partying these days" she admitted, smiling.

House nodded, retreating towards the conference room door where he stopped,

"It shows." He was blunt, humorous.

"You should get out there. One night of drunken debauchery and topless dancing would do wonders for you current frigidity, not to mention my fantasies" he winked.

Striding through the doorway and down the hall, Cameron watched him go, chuckling weakly into the silence— never before had she known a man so utterly difficult to read.

Collecting her lab coat from the sofa she opened the wooden cabinet to the far left of the conference room and withdrew her long black cashmere coat and purse before hanging her lab coat on the empty hook.

She clipped her hospital identification tag to an outside pocket of her handbag and, because it was a warm March evening, draped her jacket over her arm and left the dimly-lit, empty conference room.

House was nowhere to be seen.

Cameron paused briefly in front of his darkened office and glanced down the hallway in the direction in which he had, only moments ago, disappeared.

"He makes fairly good time for a man with a cane" she mused quietly.

Walking down the secluded corridor her heels clicked loudly, echoing against the granite walls.

Outside, in the nearly empty parkade, Allison withdrew her keys as she approached her car. Head down, closing the clasp on her purse, she was startled by a voice.

"I'll take that" rang a man's voice clearly in the night air.

Lifting her head, Cameron half-anticipated House to be standing before her, trying to startle her for a second time that evening.

She smiled faintly.

Instead, the man who stood before her was unfamiliar.

Tall, quite tall, with long, shoulder-length brown hair, wearing a tattered black leather jacket.

Cameron's breath hitched as her pulse began to quicken.

"Ex... excuse me?" she croaked through parched lips.

"You heard me. Your purse. Hand it over". He withdrew a switch-knife from his jeans pocket and snapped the blade into view. The dim lights of the parking garage glinted off the metal blade held against her.

Cameron stood, frozen, gazing into the penetrating eyes of the man who stood before her— brown eyes, almost black.

"Hand it over!" His voice was more insistent.

Slowly, tentatively, Cameron extended her handbag towards her attacker.

"Oh... Did I miss the party?" came a man's voice from behind her.

Turning, Cameron saw Houses' face emerging from the shadows, just as the man took hold of her arm and pulled her to him, positioning his blade below her throat.

Houses' left arm was outreached, cell phone in-hand.

Cameron's assailant gripped her tightly as House stepped into the light. He let out an acidic laugh at the sight of the 'debilitated' man before him.

"What'cha gonna do, gramps?" he sneered, "pummel me to death with your cane?"

"While that was my first choice" Houses' voice was steady, serious. He met Cameron's eyes before looking intently at the being which held her helpless.

"I thought I'd let someone else do my dirty work."

He leaned forward a bit, knitting his brow, "makes things easier on me".

House revealed his hand and pressed "send" on his cell phone.

Cameron flinched as the man jerked her closer, tightening his grip. She searched Houses' face for.. something.. Anything!

Undeterred, the man angled his blade closer to Cameron's neck. She drew in a shaking breath as a single, burning tear slid silently down her flushed cheek.

"You're not gonna get me with that stunt, pops" he mocked.

"Now, why don't you hobble on back to the retirement home while I finish up my evening with this" he leered down at Cameron, licking his chapped lips, "lovely young lady here?"

House narrowed his eyes and slowly returned the cell phone to his pocket. He shrugged slightly.

"I guess you've got me" he said, feigning mock defeat.

"But, how, I wonder, will you explain all of this" he gestured to the three of them "to security?" he mused.

"Oh. And the police" he added quickly.

The jackal tipped his blade towards Cameron's chin.

House fixed his eyes on hers.

"Oh..." sneered the man, "I get it. She's pretty, ain't she?" he scoffed.

He tilted his head forward slowly and licked Cameron's tear-streaked face.

House watched in horror as his free hand slid upwards along Cameron's ribs, approaching her breast.

Cameron stretched her neck back as far as possible, shuddering at the touch. A fresh tear slid soundlessly down her face, eyes shimmering, fixed on House.

The attacker halted. Faintly, in the distance, a police siren grew steadily louder.

Visibly unnerved, the villain jerked his head in Houses' direction.

"You..?" he barked in shock.

House shrugged.

"I told you it might be hard explaining all of this to the police without me."

The siren grew louder. Over his shoulder, the assailant could see the radiant red and blue lights reflecting off the distant buildings, moving ever closer.

Glaring silently at House over Cameron's head, he stood silent, his ragged breath quickening slightly, a thin bead of perspiration visible on his furrowed brow.

In one swift movement he tore the handbag from Cameron's hand and thrust her violently into Houses' arms before taking flight between the sparsely parked vehicles.

Cameron released a brief cry as she met Houses' body. Dropping his cane as she impacted him, House caught the frightened woman, throwing his arms around her instinctively and stumbling against her nearby car.

Cameron drew a shaking breath against Houses' chest.

He sighed heavily, watching the man vanish beyond the hospital perimeter. Tightening his grip on Cameron he brought a hand to rest softly on the back of her head. He stroked her gleaming hair gently and felt her tense body relax slightly against him. Relief washed over him like the waves of an incoming tide.

"Cameron" he questioned, his voice husky, "are you hurt?"

Lingering this way for a moment, Cameron rested her flushed cheek against Houses' cool jacket, eyes closed.

Vaguely she heard a voice— quiet and muffled, as if reaching her through a thick fog.

Quickly she realized where she was. Her eyes snapped open suddenly and she shot erect, stepping back from Houses' comforting embrace. His hands gripped her waist nervously.

"Cameron", his voice was more insistent.

She could hear him clearly now as the buzzing in her head subsided.

"Are you hurt?" he questioned urgently.

Cameron shook her hazy head and brought her hands to her warm face, rubbing out the dim tear-lines.

She found her voice.

"No" she stumbled, then, more forcefully, "No, I'm fine."

She willed herself to smile and straightened, wavering slightly.

House, still perched against her car, steadied her fatigued body and bent his head to look into her large, dark eyes.

"You're sure?" he questioned again, the tension beginning to ebb from his voice.

Cameron nodded.

"How did you..?"

The corner of Houses' mouth twitched into a vague smile.

"Have you seen our 'security force'?" he joked wryly.

"I could out-run them, _after_ I'd pummeled them with my cane". His smile brightened, then fell.

"I had no time" he sighed. "I walked out and..." he paused, searching her eyes, "found you here. I hoped he'd just take off, thinking I'd really sent that message..."

Silence.

"I got lucky" he stated quietly.

"_We_ got lucky".

Their eyes held and Cameron's already racing heart began to ache softly.

She felt House lean towards her slightly, his head bent over hers. Startled, her lashes fluttered.

He stopped. She could feel his warm breath on her face.

Clearing his throat, House bent to retrieve his cane.

Cameron drew an alarmed breath and gripped his wrist tightly, pulling his hand to her.

"You've been hurt" she gasped.

House gazed at his hand, red and wet, before looking intently into her eyes.

"This isn't my blood".

**A/N: **"Duetto-Sul Aria" is a soprano/mezzo-soprano, Italian aria from Mozart's "The Marriage of Figaro". It can be heard in "The Shawshank Redemption" and is one of my favorite songs.


	2. Darkness II

**Disclaimer:** Please see Chapter I.  
**A/N: **This fic assumes that House keeps the car given to him in "Mob Rules".

Cameron lay, shivering, her flat stomach exposed, on a tabletop in the now closed, and therefore dark and solitary clinic.

House raised his focus from the wound to her face.

"Okay?" he questioned, concern _almost_ fully-hidden from his eyes.

Cameron forced a weak smile and nodded,

"Just cold."

House smoothed the gauze over the slash in her left side which he had cleaned and inspected.

"At least you won't need stitches" he said brightly, rolling to the nearby counter on the wheeled stool to retrieve a small metal tray displaying two wrapped syringes.

He filled the first with a clear liquid and presented it to her,

"Tetanus" he explained.

Cameron nodded and bit her bottom lip, closing her eyes against the brief pain.

She turned, hearing the clatter of the syringe into the trash, and looked at House.

Raising the second, wrapped syringe into her view, he tied the recognizable rubber tubing around her left upper arm.

She knit her brow faintly.

"Just in case" he answered her silent question.

"You never know where a guy like that has been".

Cameron exhaled slowly and relaxed against the crisp table-top of the clinic bed.

House deposited the blood sample into a sealed container and listed the necessary information on the label, slipping the package into his pocket.

"I'll get the results in a few days" he intoned.

Cameron nodded, smiling lightly.

"I know".

House smiled lamely.

"I guess you do".

He reached out and smoothed the edge of the tape against her white skin, brushing the warm flesh gently with his fingertips.

Cameron shivered slightly as goose bumps washed over her flat stomach.

Blinking, House stood and eased her up.

Cameron pulled her tattered and bloody sweater down over the exposed flesh and swept her dark hair over her left shoulder as she leaned forward above her knees.

House stood before her, watching closely.

Cameron, who for all intents and purposes, had remained remarkably calm and composed, now began to tremble.

House looked on painfully as a tear found its' way to her soft lips.

Removing his sports coat he draped it over her quivering shoulders.

"You're going into shock". His voice was quiet, gentle.

"No" Cameron laughed, haltingly, and shook her loose hair.

"I'm just cold".

A second tear slid silently down her pale face.

Houses' blue eyes took in the trembling woman. He placed a warm hand on her wan cheek and smoothed away the salty tear with his thumb.

"You could have been killed" he sighed, cupping her face in the palm of his hand.

Cameron's lashes fell: her head drooped forward, landing softly on his shoulder.

Surprised, House rested his hand on the back of her neck tenderly. She was cold; pale.

When her forehead touched him she jolted upwards, startled.

House steadied her, gripping her hips gently.

"Cameron" he began quietly.

She shook her hair loose and blinked, focusing her eyes on his.

"Sorry" she said, her voice high and loud in the stillness of the room.

"I'm fine" she continued, sliding off the table.

Quickly, her knees buckled beneath her.

Deftly, House caught the falling woman and leaned her back against the clinic table.

"Allison" he ordered kindly. "Stop."

Cameron laughed weakly.

"I'm good. I just need... a minute".

House shook his head and pulled his jacket closer around her shaking body.

"You're not". He looked at her. "Come on."

Gripping her elbow he eased her away from the table, wrapping his left arm carefully around her waist and leading her slowly out the door.

"You know" he smirked, "I'd be allot more useful right now without this damn bum leg".

His words were joking, but Cameron could hear the pained edge to his voice.

She smiled and briefly squeezed the hand that supported her.

"No" she said softly, stopping suddenly to look into his face.

"Did I say thank-you?" she asked weakly.

House smiled.

"Yeah. Let's go."

House eased Cameron into the passenger seat of his red, '65 corvette and leaned over her body to strap her in securely.

He tightened his coat around her cold body.

Cameron tossed her aching head back and forth, gently leaning against the plush leather of his seat.

"What are you doing? I'm fine" she insisted, struggling to lift her head.

House laughed aloud.

"Yeah, and I'm Steven Tyler. Shut-up and rest."

He closed the door and rounded the car, taking his seat next to her.

By the time he looked over at her, she was already sleeping quietly.

The night air rushing past felt good on her face- refreshing.

Cameron opened her dark eyes and turned to look at House.

He was silent, intense, eyes focused ahead, but she could tell he was mulling something over seriously.

"Where are you taking me?" she questioned hazily.

Without averting his gaze, House spoke:

"Home".


	3. Darkness III

**Disclaimer: **Available at Chp. I :)

Cameron's heavy lashesfluttered. She blinked, opening her eyes against the muted sunlight. She stretched, moaning softly, rolling from her right side onto her back and flinched.

Pain.

She lay still a moment, letting her mind clear; letting the events of last night rise to the surface.

Her throat was dry, her head pounding.

Easing herself up onto her elbows she looked across the large, cluttered room.

"Where am I?" she whispered softly.

Faintly, music was playing. Sinatra?

She folded the navy blue duvet from her legs and slid off the large bed.

She knit her brow slightly, noticing the t-shirt she awoke in.

"The Rolling Stones?" she puzzled softly, pinching the soft, faded black fabric between her fingers.

She drifted down the tan hallway towards the music.

In the middle of a dimly-lit living room sat a baby-grand piano.

Cameron stood in the entrance way, leaning against the wall for support, watching him play— slightly more disheveled than usual in the clothes from last night, eyes closed, swaying gently to the rhythm of the soft music.

She smiled, remaining silent, taking in this rare experience.

His eyes opened suddenly and he ceased playing, his gaze instinctively trained on her.

Without a word she walked, slowly, painfully, towards him.

She faltered slightly as she reached him and gripped the piano to steady herself. House caught her hips and pulled Cameron gently to him.

"I woke you" he said at last, his voice quiet and distant.

Cameron shook her head and regained her balance, resting a hand on his supporting arm.

"No".

Her cheeks had regained some of their rosy hue.

"What time is it?" her voice was husky. She could feel the warmth of his touch through the thin fabric of her slacks.

"Almost eleven". His voice was equally gruff.

Gazing into his eyes, Cameron's lips spread into a rueful smile. He released her then and stood, grasping his cane and wandering towards the open kitchen.

"Sit down." He waved a hand vaguely.

Cameron bit her lip.

"You play?" she questioned absently, making her way to the worn, brown leather sofa.

She eased herself onto the seat and rested her aching head against the soft leather.

"No" came the response from the kitchen.

"It came with the place".

He emerged, cup in hand, and moved towards her.

He shrugged, "Thought it looked cool— decided to keep it."

He extended a steaming cup of coffee to her.

"Cream, one sugar" he said.

Cameron smiled, surprised.

"Yes. Thank you".

She brought the cup to her lips, watching as he sat himself on the coffee table in front of her.

"How do you feel?" he asked seriously.

"Worst hang-over of my _life_" she answered, holding the cup to her, absorbing its' warmth.

House knit his brow and smirked.

"I though you never partied?"

"Not any_more_" she toyed.

He raised his expressive eyebrows, leering playfully.

"_Reeeaally_?"

Cameron laughed softly.

"It was a _long_ time ago" she smiled.

Houses' face fell in mock despair.

He reached out and tucked a stray hair behind her ear, eyes soft. He caught himself.

His face froze into an unreadable seriousness as he turned her head to the side gently.

"No bruising" he muttered, inspecting her neck.

He dropped his hand to his lap.

"I'll check your side a little later".

He rose, stiffly, and drifted back towards the kitchen.

Cameron relaxed against the sofa and sipped her coffee.

"So..." she began strangely.

"This is your place".

A kettle whistled in the next room and a dish clattered.

"I'm pleased to see your cognitive skills are intact after that ordeal" came the response from the next room.

Cameron smiled and inhaled the rich fragrance of her beverage— he had known how she took her coffee. The revelation simultaneously astonished and thrilled her. They worked together, yes, but she never once considered that he might have paid the slightest attention to the way she takes her coffee...

House returned, offering her a second mug.

Cameron stared, confused.

"Um... I don't think..." she began.

"Chicken soup". He set the cup down on the table before her.

"Closest thing I have to 'real food'" he said lamely.

Cameron smiled softly.

"Thank you, but... I'm not, really..."

"Drink it" House ordered.

"It's been hours since you've eaten anything."

His words were kind, but insistent.

_"This"_ Cameron thought _"is exactly what everyone _wishes_ his bed-side manner would be"._

She set the coffee cup down and retrieved the second mug, drinking its' warm contents as she was told.

"What am I doing here?" Cameron asked, her mind struggling to detangle the muddled events from the previous night.

Across the room from her, House withdrew a pill bottle from his pocket and swallowed a number of vicodin.

"You don't remember?" he questioned, a fleeting look of concern billowing past his blue eyes.

Cameron shook her head and sipped the chicken soup.

"No. The last thing I remember..." she paused for thought, "is you putting me in your car. I thought you were taking me home?"

She looked up at him.

House shook his head, leaning forward on his cane with both hands.

"You were in shock. You could barely lift your head."

He looked into her worn green eyes.

"You were in no state to stay alone" he finished, their eyes holding across the dim room.

"Besides" he blinked, forcibly severing the connection between them,

"I think we lost your keys".

Cameron thought, willing herself to remember.

"I..."

"You were" House said suddenly, "awake when we got here. At least, I thought you were".

Cameron looked at him.

"What? You think I _carried_ you up the front steps?" He scoffed.

"And... I just gave you the t-shirt. Your sweater is ruined."

Cameron blushed slightly with down-cast eyes. The room fell silent. Considering, Cameron wrinkled her brow.

"Where did _you_ sleep last night?" she questioned softly.

Bluntly- "You're sittin' on it".

Cameron blinked, guilty.

"I'm so sorry" she breathed, barely above a whisper.

"You must be in pain this morning".

She was disheartened that she had caused him such discomfort after all he had done for her.

"I'm always in pain" House assured her.

"Besides, you have officially slept more in my bed than I have in the past two weeks".

He smirked and tapped the big screen television set as he crossed the room, coming to sit at the far end of the sofa from her.

"Tivo- a blessing _and_ a curse".

Cameron smiled softly at him and set her cup down. She leaned back against the smooth leather and closed her eyes.

She could feel Houses' gaze on her. When she fluttered her lashes open, his face was turned away, towards the inactive television screen.

"You're still pretty worn out" he rose, gather up the blanket that lay on a nearby chair.

He covered her carefully.

"Rest. I'll take you home when you're able."

He turned to leave. Cameron forced herself upward, craning her neck after him.

"No. Please" she stammered.

"I've troubled you too long as it is. I'll just call a taxi and..."

"I still want to check that gash in your side" House cut her off sharply.

"Rest."

He turned, looking intently at her. She nodded, once, almost imperceptive.

The corner of his mouth twitched before he turned and left the room.

Entering his bedroom, Houses' eyes fell on the place where Cameron had slept— the imprint of her body almost lingering on the rumpled sheets.

Shaking his mind free of such nonsense he approached the arm chair nearest the bed and sank down heavily into the real place he had spent the night.


	4. Darkness IV

**Disclaimer: **Chp. I ;)

* * *

Cameron blinked her eyes and sighed softly. She looked around the dim room. It was quite a bit darker— she must have been asleep for some time.

She stretched, tentatively, beneath the warmth of the blanket House had draped over her.

A sudden stab of pain reminded her to move with care. She rolled onto her back. Sitting up, she nervously brought her fingers to her tousled hair and smoothed its' roughness.

The heavy curtains were drawn, muting out the sunlight.

To her left, House sat at the piano, bent casually over the concealed keys, reading.

She watched him a moment before opening her mouth to speak.

"About 4:30" he said.

Cameron gaped, surprised, and then laughed softly.

"Wow" was all she could manage— she had slept for quite a while.

She rose carefully and drifted towards him slowly, her right arm wrapped protectively around her waist so that her hand covered her bandaged side.

He closed his book and set it aside, turning his body to face her.

Cameron caught a glance at the cover, "War and Peace", and smiled down at him.

"'The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People'?" she teased.

He reached out without warning and lifted the edge of the t-shirt she wore, inspecting the bandage.

"Well" he mused, "you've been asleep so long I finished it. I figured, what the hell, I have time".

She laughed.

"You just _happened_ to have Tolstoy lying around?

House shrugged casually.

Cameron, nodded, feigning seriousness.

"I see. They mixed it up with your 'Sports Illustrated'".

House blinked.

"No… I don't read 'SI' anymore- too many articles, not enough bikini babes".

Cameron bit back a laugh.

"This dressing needs to be changed" House said blankly and eased himself off the piano bench towards the direction of his bedroom.

Cameron moved carefully to the window and parted the heavy curtain. Afternoon sunlight flooded the room and in the light she gazed at her surroundings— book shelves, sparsely-furnished and hardly decorated, not that this surprised her. Leaning towers of books, sheet music, and various CDs, records and papers were stacked at various angles around the room.

Cameron smiled to herself.

"So this is where he lives" she said softly.

Closing her eyes against the light, Cameron gripped the piano for support and let the warm rays wash over her. She felt better— much better.

House stood in the doorway, as she had done only hours before, watching Cameron with gentle eyes, holding a small med kit.

As he moved towards Cameron, her eyes opened and she smiled bashfully.

"Are you in much pain?" he asked, retaking his seat at the piano and pulling her closer to him.

"No, not really".

She lifted his t-shirt above her stomach and turned her body so he would have a clearer view.

House squinted in the brightness.

"What'd you go and do _that_ for?" he jerked his head in the direction of the bright window as he carefully peeled the bandage from her side.

"It's a beautiful day" Cameron breathed.

"Besides, how else would you see what you're doing?"

The side of Houses' mouth twitched into a vague smile.

"I don't need to see. I operate by skill alone" he joked.

Cameron smiled down at the top of his head.

House treated the wound and Cameron winced at the sting. She drew in a breath sharply.

House furrowed his brow.

"Sorry".

Cameron smiled.

"I'm okay".

House smoothed a fresh square of cloth over her injury. His warm hands held her bare waist as he traced a finer along the outline of the bandage, sealing the tape.

His hand brushed her bare stomach and the flesh rippled.

Cameron stifled a giggle, causing House to lean back abruptly.

"Ticklish". She bit her lip, embarrassed.

"Sorry".

He shrugged, more like twitched.

"Me too" he scoffed.

House looked up to meet her gaze and held it for a moment.

Cameron reached out and brushed the tips of her fingers lightly against his rough cheek.

"Have I said thank you?" she whispered.

House blinked, and Cameron withdrew her hand quickly, as if touching fire.

She cleared her dry throat and stepped away from him as he stood, cane in hand, moving towards the kitchen.

"Yes" he answered gruffly.

Cameron blushed, embarrassed, mentally berating herself for her stupidity.

House leaned against the entrance to the kitchen and faced her.

"Hungry?" he questioned casually.

Cameron inhaled, forcing herself to look at him.

"No" she smiled weakly.

"Thanks."

"You sure?" he pressed.

"_Chen's_ down the street makes a pretty mean egg roll" he moved towards the phone.

Cameron smiled softly.

"Um... sure, if you want..." she trailed off.

She felt awkward, occupying so much of his attention like this.

"Great" he said, picking up the phone and dialing by memory, "I'm starved."

"Hot! hot... "Cameron laughed, noodles dangling from her lips.

House watched her struggle to poke the thin noodles into her mouth with her chop sticks.

He chewed thoughtfully on an egg roll and chuckled quietly.

"Maybe I was wrong" he smiled, dribbling plum sauce over his chicken-fried rice.

Cameron swallowed with some difficulty and dropped her chopsticks into the box she held in her lap.

She laughed at her lack of elegance.

"About _what_?" she asked, leaning forward to retrieve her soda from the coffee table.

They were seated at opposite ends of the sofa, House, leaning forward over the small oak table; Cameron curled at the other end, facing him.

"You" he spoke through a mouthful of rice.

"Maybe your cognitive skills _are_ a bit lacking after last night— you can't even _feed_ yourself" he joked flatly.

Cameron's cheeks flushed as she laughed honestly.

"Chopsticks never were my specialty" she smiled.

Giving up her fight with a piece of beef, she stabbed it instead and popped it into her mouth with an air of victory.

"I think I should take you to the police station before I take you home" House said, through bites.

Cameron's smile faded. She had all but forgotten her reason for being there— the events of last night which brought her to Houses' home, into his bed, and laughing over noodles now.

House noticed the change in her and knit his brow.

"Are you up to it?" he asked, concerned.

Cameron smiled.

"Yes, thanks" she nodded, reassuring him.

"But there's really no need to trouble yourself, I'll just call a cab..."

House shook his head at her.

"They're going to need me to verify your story. I _was_ there, remember?"

Cameron laughed weakly. She blinked, her smile fading.

She lowered her gaze to the container in her lap.

"I'm sorry to trouble you like this" she said quietly.

House laughed abruptly.

"Are you kiddin'?" he picked up the remaining egg roll with his chopsticks and dropped it into her container.

"This is the most excitement I've had in _weeks_" he smiled.

Cameron smiled back softly and stabbed the egg roll with her chopstick, taking a bite.

"You're right" she said.

"Best egg roll I've ever tasted".


	5. Darkness V

**Disclaimer: **See Chp. I.

* * *

House sat silently, impatiently, at the large table in 'Interrogation Room One'.

He and Cameron had been, reluctantly, separated.

It was early evening by the time the two arrived at the police station to file the report.

"Why didn't you come in sooner?" questioned the bland detective.

House tapped his cane on the bare floor, bored.

"She was clearly in shock and in no condition to _'report'_ anything" House said blankly.

"You wouldn't have gotten anything out of her last night anyway— she was dead on her feet. I let her rest and brought her in now after she'd had some time to recover".

The detective scribbled a few notes on a coil-ring notebook before looking up at House.

"Is it your medical opinion that Dr. Cameron was in shock?" he asked.

House knit his brow in mock amazement.

"Do I _have_ any other opinion?" he retorted.

"So, you approached your vehicle when you heard a voice?"

The female detective spoke softly, as if to a small child.

"Yes, that's right" Cameron nodded.

She had tied Houses' loose t-shirt at the bottom so that it fit her hips snugly.

"He demanded by purse. He held a knife to me so I reached out to give it to him".

"And..." the detective checked her notes, "that's when Dr. House came upon you?"

She looked Cameron in the eye.

"Yes" Cameron answered softly.

"He saved me".

"So... the woman is in _such_ serious shock that you couldn't bring her in, so you just... what…took her home?"

House rolled his expressive eyes.

"She was in no condition to be alone" he said, exasperated, "so I took her to my place".

The detective arched a brow.

"You're her _boss_?" the detective questioned wryly, "and you took her to your place?"

House gazed at the incompetent fool blankly.

"We have a fairly close working-relationship".

The detective's eyebrows shot up.

"How close exactly?"

Houses' brow wrinkled as he narrowed his eyes.

"Not _that_ close."

"So, Dr. House convinced your attacker that he had called the police?" asked the female detective, head down over her notebook.

"Yes." Cameron's throat was dry.

Her earlier energy was beginning to dwindle, leaving her worn and tired.

"There were sirens approaching. He got scared and took off with my purse."

Cameron rubbed her flushed face.

"Why didn't Dr. House actually call us?" questioned the detective, a note of suspicion in her voice.

"There was no _time_." Cameron's voice raised defensively.

"He saved my _life_" she insisted.

"So... you let her recover a bit before brining her in?" queried the detective blandly.

House raised his brows in feigned shock.

"You got _all that_ just out of our little conversation? Egad man! Your perceptiveness is _clearly_ wasted in such a basic occupation" House intoned dryly.

"We have your description, Dr. Cameron. We'll get it out there and contact you if we learn anything."

Cameron nodded weakly.

"Don't forget to contact your bank, credit card companies, cell phone provider, that sort of thing. And if your license was in your wallet, you might want to think about installing a home security system, just in case".

"Thank you" Cameron murmured.

Easing herself off the chair, she met Houses' gaze as he stood waiting in the doorway.

He took off his coat and draped it gently over her shoulders. He cupped her face in both hands, inspecting her closely.

"You're pale" he said softly.

Cameron closed her eyes and smiled faintly.

"Tired..." she breathed.

House wrapped a supporting arm around her waist and led her slowly out the door.

"Do you think they'll find him?" Cameron questioned absently.

House scoffed, helping her down the steps.

"You kidding? You just described the proverbial 'junkie in Hollywood'. We needn't have bothered." House grumbled.

"But" He added, forcing himself to brighten on her account.

"I've done my civic duty for today and I feel peachy. How 'bout you?" he joked.

Cameron blinked away an exhausted tear.

House stopped, sighing.

"Come on. I'll take you home."

They pulled up to the white stone steps of Cameron's townhouse just as the red sunset melted below the city skyline. Soft, twilight stars had appeared overhead.

They had ridden from the police station in a comfortable silence.

House turned off the ignition and reached for the handle.

Cameron placed a hand on his knee gently, very briefly.

"I'm okay. You don't need to trouble yourself."

House caught a quick glimpse of her hand on his leg before looking into her face seriously.

"You're still pretty weak. You're sure you..."

"I'm fine" she smiled, cutting him off.

"Besides, it'll take less time for me to get up those stairs by myself than for you to _'help'_ me" she laughed, exiting the vehicle and sliding his coat from her body.

House mustered a look of deep indignation: "_Ouch_".

Cameron smiled playfully at him and set the jacket carefully on the passenger seat before closing the door.

House nodded and turned the ignition.

"Get some rest. And take your time getting back- the place'll _still_ be there" he grumbled.

Cameron laughed and turned, moving with some difficulty up the six or so granite steps leading to her home.

House watched her closely, assuring himself of her recovery.

Cameron stooped to dig a spare key out of its' hiding place and unlocked the door.

She turned, suddenly, to call to him from the landing.

"Did I say thank you?"

House waved a hand vaguely in her direction, gunned the engine and sped off.

* * *

**A/N:**I threw this part in because it seemed disconnected without it. Plus, there is a fantastic part between House and the Detective I LOVED and had to put in. Who can guess what it was? 


	6. Darkness VI

**Disclaimer: **See Chp. I.  
**A/N:** I personally love the way this ends so simply :)

* * *

Monday morning came quickly.

Cameron's aching body had almost fully recovered, and she _had_ noticed some slight bruising around her rib cage.

She had spent Sunday sleeping, watching "Dateline", and sleeping some more.

By 8am Monday, when House entered the conference room to find her seated there, Cameron had already forced herself to walk through the parkade. Underneath her car she had found her keys and hospital ID tag.

House seemed unsurprised to see her seated there, coffee in hand, flipping through pages of a recent referral, exchanging banter with Chase regarding the events of her weekend—he was curious, she was unhelpful.

After the usual pleasantries, House dismissed the three, stopping Cameron at the door and letting it close behind Forman and Chase who looked back briefly, curious.

"Get some rest?" he asked, casually, pouring himself a fresh cup of coffee.

"Yes" Cameron answered, smiling.

House looked at her a moment before nodding.

"Good. Stop by the clinic later and I'll change that dressing" he said, taking a sip.

Cameron nodded and turned to leave.

"Oh, and if you need a bodyguard this evening, I'll be leave promptly at five" he teased.

Cameron laughed softly and smiled back before forcing herself to appear serious.

"That won't be necessary, thanks" she said before exiting into the hallway.

House smiled and downed his coffee.

As House approached his desk, a package caught his eye—a black gift bag, slightly worn, with a tiny envelope visible just about the edge.

Frowning slightly, House grabbed at the envelope and dropped into his office chair, withdrawing a plain, white card.

"Thank you" it read simply in a woman's fine, curling script.

House gazed at the card a moment before setting it aside.

He reached into the bag and pulled out his faded "Rolling Stones" t-shirt.

The neat folds fell as he lifted it, knitting his brow faintly in contemplation.

Bringing the garment to his nose he inhaled the scent of laundry detergent and the faint aroma of Jasmine perfume.


End file.
